


day 1

by crowleys_moose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Stanford Era, Wincest - Freeform, pining!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowleys_moose/pseuds/crowleys_moose
Summary: stanford era!wincest- pining!Dean





	day 1

It’s been three years since Sam left- and the ache still hasn’t left Dean.

He rolled his eyes, and leaned against the Impala. This was ridiculous- he is a grown man who shot a poltergeist when he was 16. And yet, he can’t pick up the phone to talk to his brother who was told to never come back by their father. Dean still wishes that he would’ve defended Sam, and not taken his father’s side; maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Dean yanked the burner phone out of his pocket, dialing Sam’s number. His thumb hovered over the call button, and he pursed his lips.

What if Sammy actually hates him? What if he made some sort of promise to himself to never forgive Dean or their dad? The all-to-familiar anxiety clawed at him, his heart beating rapidly, and his hands began to shake. A wave of déjà vu crashed over him. Same shit, different day- it was a cycle that will keep on rolling. “Come on, Dean, it’s one call- just one call,” Dean mumbled, letting out a deep sigh.

Just one call- that was all.

Dean’s hand trembled, his grip on the phone tightening. He didn’t know if he could do this- or if he should do this, really. “I’m too sober for this bullshit,” he said to himself, and ran his fingers through his short hair. He walked over to the driver’s seat, and opened it, stepping inside. Now where is the nearest bar, Dean thought to himself, and started the car, driving around aimlessly as he hunted for a bar.

*~*~*

Too many shots later, Dean lost any inhibitions that he had in his system. He rested his elbow on the bar, pressing his forehead against his palm. Dean could feel the pitiful stare of the bartender, and he raised his head up to give her a drunken grin. “Don’ feel bad for me, darlin’. I’m fine,” he lied, and pushed down on the bar so he could stand up. She grabbed his wrist, her cold hands cooling his warm body.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I’ll call you a cab, and you can pick your car up in the morning. My shift ends soon, I could even drive your car for you-“

Dean waved her off, and gave her a softer, reassuring drunken smile. “I appreciate the thought, uh- Amanda- but I’ll be jus’ fine. The hotel I’m stayin’ at is walkin’ distance from the hotel to here. Or is it the other way around,” he said, and let out a laugh, and he sat back down. Amanda sighed, and pursed her lips, glancing at Dean.

“Okay. How about this- I’ll drive you to the hotel after my shift is done. And you can get your car in the morning- how does that sound?” Amanda asked, and crossed her arms. She arched her eyebrows, waiting for an answer from Dean. He figured out that she wasn’t going to move on until he gave her an answer.

“Sure, sweetheart. That works for me,” Dean said, and Amanda nodded at him, walking away to move on to another customer. He sighed, and he dug into his pocket for the burner phone. There wasn’t any point on worrying about it now- at least he could just blame it on the alcohol. Dean dialed Sam’s number, and pressed call, holding it up to his ear as he waited to hear his baby brother’s voice.

You have reached the voice mail of Sam Winchester; please leave your message after the beep.

Dean let out a sigh, happy that he heard Sam’s voice, but wishing it was actually him on the other line. The beep rang in his ear, and Dean let out another laugh- god, he was going to regret this.

“Heya, Sammy, remember me? Yeah, it’s me- your piece of shit older brother. I know you’ve never called me that, not to my face, anyway- but god knows how many times I’ve called myself that. I wished I would’ve taken your side the night that you and Dad got into that fight- you probably would’ve still left anyway, but fuck, man- at least you would still be with me. I should’ve said yes to running away with you to California. But no, I had to be the ‘good son’, and stay with dad,” Dean said, and felt hot tears burning in his eyes- he was too drunk for this bullshit “he was always so proud of you, you know. Dad always knew that you would do something great with your life. But he didn’t want you to get hurt out there- we both know what kind of fucked up shit is out there, man. Can you blame him for wanting you to be safe?” He let out a shaky breath, and the tears rolled down his cheeks. “He didn’t mean what he said, Sammy. Fuck, I didn’t mean anything I said that night. You’re-you’re too important for me to lose, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I lo-“

The phone died before he could finish his message. He stared down at the phone, and noted the low battery signal that was on the phone. Dean pushed the burner phone back into his pocket, and he let the tears continue to roll down his cheek. He really didn’t have much to lose at this point in his life, besides his dignity- but he already lost that when he left that voice mail. The one thing he can’t lose though is Sammy.

All he wants is for him to be okay- nothing more, and nothing less.


End file.
